Night Sky
by Icicle Raindream
Summary: Rowen seeks comfort and answers in the night sky..... and also from a friend.


Night Sky

By Icicle Raindream

Disclaimer: All credit is given to the creators of this show over in Japan, as I don't own anything of this show and am making no money off this story.

Notes: Rowen was always my favorite character (despite that accent Ward Perry gave him in the dubbed version) and I love writing from his POV, although I don't do it often. One day I was sitting at my table with my mom and this idea kind of slapped me upside the head. I jumped up from the table, ticked my mom off 'cause I wasn't going to talk to her anymore, and raced to the computer. This is the end result, hope you like! (By the way, Rowen's (or Touma's, if you wanna be picky) Japanese voice actor is very good. And no, he doesn't have an accent!! "^-^" His voice is kinda rustic and deep. It's nice.)

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I shut the car door behind me, walked around to the driver's side, stuck my head through the opened window, and absently kissed my mother's cheek. When I pulled away she smiled brightly at me and chirped, "Bye, honey! I'll get in contact with you in a few days, okay?"

I mustered up all my deep buried love for her and managed to smile back. "Yeah. Thanks, Mom. I'll see you…whenever I see you."

If she was hurt by my reluctance to talk, she didn't show it. She just grinned harder and then stepped on the gas. I watched as her nails sparkled a bright pink in the last rays of sunlight, her hand waving out the window. I listened as the tires kicked up gravel in their wake from the driveway, and then turned to the front door once nothing could be heard anymore. I walked through it, lugging my duffel bag with me, and was greeted with the delicious aroma of dinner, fresh out of the oven. Being the growing teenage boy with very high metabolism that I was, my stomach grumbled immediately. I think if I had been in better spirits I would have laughed. My belly sometimes has a mind of its own. Taking too many lessons from Kento, I suppose.

I flung my pack on the couch and pushed open the kitchen door. A familiar sight met my eyes: Ryo at the table, filling his glass with milk, Cye, with potholders, holding a heavy looking dish that harbored a thick casserole, Kento hopping anxiously around him with puppy dog eyes begging to be the first one served, Mia leaning into the refrigerator with an apron tied around her waist searching for something, and Sage arranging silverware around the already set plates. I suddenly realized how much I had taken dinners like these for granted. I missed the bustle and clatter that this household made daily, the voices talking all at once, the laughing combining into one steady flow, the air about the house that said there was a certain bond before all of us that no ordinary schmoe off the street could break. It had all become a part of us, for all the time we had spent together, protecting and keeping watch on one another, and it took me those few solitary days I had spent with my mother to come to terms with it all. _This_ was my family. _This_ is what family was all about. I loved it and at the same time scorned it. Makes a lot of sense.

It seemed as if everyone looked up at once as I entered the kitchen, and their smiles could have lit up the whole city. I didn't think they'd miss me _that_ much.

"Rowen! You're back!" Mia exclaimed, setting down the bowl of salad she had been rooting for earlier. 

"Hey, buddy! How's it going?" Ryo asked as he slid the milk jug across the table towards Sage.

I grinned back at everyone, wishing I felt like it. "Hi, guys. Looks like I made it back just in time, huh?"

"Hope you're hungry," Mia said, agreeing.

"Hope you can get some before Kento chews my arm off," Cye giggled as he managed to set the boiling hot casserole dish on the table.

"Man, am I hungry," Kento announced then, as if we couldn't tell. He plopped into his chair and tied his napkin around his neck. "You know Cye tried to get me to go on a diet?" He looked up at me with innocent eyes, wanting for sympathy. I forced a laugh, although he _did_ look pretty pathetic.

"Guys our age need lots of nourishment," I said to Cye in a neutral tone, taking my seat next to Sage.

"Nourishment, yes," Cye replied. "Eighty thousand salty snacks a day, no." He gave Kento a playful glare.

"One does need their daily salt intake," Ryo stuck up for him, shrugging. I guessed he was the main accomplice with Kento's salt-bingeing and shook my head at him.

"I prefer a nice cup of something hot," Sage joined the conversation. "Helps me relax."

"Ooh, the secret of the man who walks unseen," Ryo said mysteriously. "He let the cat out of the bag, everyone, _now_ what will we do?"

"Were you guys _always_ like this?" I wondered aloud as Mia and Cye took their seats. Sage respectfully ignored Ryo's comment.

"Like what, Rowen?" Cye asked, taking up a spatula to serve the food.

I floundered for a word for a minute, then blurted the first thing that came to my mind. "Noisy?"

"You can't blame _me_ for that," Sage said as he sipped his milk.

Mia looked at me with round eyes, expecting. What, I didn't know. Was it one of those women things where they read your mind while you sit there like a lump on a log?

"I didn't mean it that way," I recovered quickly. "I…just need to get back into the swing of things."

Cye began to serve everyone as they handed over their plates. "What do you mean 'the swing of things'?" he asked me as he placed a healthy amount on Kento's plate.

I felt my cheeks get hot and waved my hand hastily. "Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it. I think I just need some more sleep, that's all."

Cye let my painfully obvious cover-up slide and just nodded, then turned back to his casserole. Sage handed my plate back to me and looked at me for a second, causing me to pick my fork up and put it down again in slight confusion.

"What?" I asked him. Did I already have something on my face?

He shook his head quickly. "Nothing," he replied lowly, and went back to his dinner.

*

I rolled around in bed, only stopping my movement when my knee slammed into the wall. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and rubbed it, trying to quickly extinguish the pain before I woke Sage up on the other side of the room. My sheet was twisted around my legs in the most uncomfortable fashion, so I decided to get up out of bed. I hadn't been sleeping much anyway, I noted. I'd turned and stared at the red illuminated numbers on my alarm clock at least four times in the past hour, never once registering the figures as being pretty well late into the night. Or should I say morning?

I felt agitated as I sat up and unwound my legs from the bedclothes. I'd felt exactly this way when I first went to visit my mother—like a closet insomniac. Waves of it just hit me out of the blue, and my mother would give me worried stares over her cup of coffee in the morning, asking me if I felt ill. I wasn't used to going to bed and hearing crickets chirp at nine o'clock. I was used to hearing Kento's snorting with laughter at a midnight sitcom, or hear Sage's rustling a page in my favorite book which I'd just lent him. It made me wonder if my mother was being falsely compassionate; I finally get to see her and begin to fall apart, but did she really care? I mean, sure when we were together she seemed to, but where was she those other three hundred and sixty days of the year I never saw her? 

Now it made me feel bad. I was judging my mother. My mom, of all people. The person who had carried me for nine months, given birth to me. Who was I to say she wasn't a good mother? Who was I to second-guess her career and marriage choices? Maybe she knew I was happier here at Mia's and was really giving me the best life possible…

I didn't know if _that_ was true, but my head was starting to pound with all this information. All this was spurned from one sitting meal with my closest friends? Maybe I was destined to see what I had though. You couldn't deny it—we were each other's family. Forget the title roles—nobody had precedence here, we all shared. The chores, the sadness, the caring, the favors…we all chipped in and made things work and most of the time they flowed smoothly. Isn't that some kind of raw definition of a family? A group of people who live together, work together, and support one another in a loving household?

God, Rowen, you're thinking too much. My head might explode someday, what with all my internal bantering back and forth. The ideas just sprung around inside there, bounced off the soft walls of the brain cavity and crashed back into each other, creating glumps of confused and half-thought out feelings. Everything was a mush of mumbo-jumbo-ed garbage, and it was amazing I kept a hold of myself as well as I did. Call it Warrior-mode, I guess.

I climbed out of bed, tip-toed to my sock drawer, and pulled out a pair of thick wool socks. I slipped them on, buttoned the front of my pajama shirt, and crept out of the semi-dark room. When I had made it halfway down the steps I realized that that everyone was asleep. It was absolutely dead quiet in the house, the living room clock softly clicking away the seconds of the night. It was still, yes, but also peaceful. There was this settlement of comfort over Mia's house; it was draped over it like a fuzzy warm blanket on a cold winter day. That feeling just didn't go away, even with off-and-on insomniacs like myself.

I walked on the balls of my feet and slowly unlocked the front door, pulling it open. The night air was crisp and cool, and my hair shuffled in the wind as I took a step outside and closed the door softly behind me. I took a few cautious steps across the lawn, feeling the grass crush beneath my thickly coated feet, a coolness pressing up against them, even through the wool. I made it to approximately the middle of the lawn when I stopped and listened. No crickets chirping, like at Mom's. Was I glad? Who knew.

I settled on the grass, feeling some sharp blades poke playfully through my pajamas and itch a little bit. I merely smiled to myself as I folded my arms underneath my head. The night sky was pitch-black, calm, polka-dotted with tiny flickers of starlight. From my position I couldn't see the moon, but an almost eerie white glare was cast across the darkness, making the stars somewhat hard to see sometimes. But I knew all the places to look, just lying there in the grass, my toes pointing up to the sky. I almost felt like I was a little kid.

How could that be, though? I never did this when I was a little kid; I never stargazed. Perhaps I should thank Strata for that. My armor gave me more insight into the universe, made me aware of the glittering beauty that painted the sky. It was there for anyone who wanted to look, if they knew to look in the right places.

When I was little I didn't know where to look and therefore didn't bother. I didn't have friends who passed me a football in the hallway and dragged me out to play in scorching one hundred and five degree weather, or lit candles in my bedroom and told me to concentrate on the things I felt inside, or got screeched at because I was a total terror in the kitchen, or had someone I could remember the times when we saved our three friends from captivity in order to save the world. I didn't have that when I was younger.

Was I looking for someone to blame? I don't know. Who was there to blame? First word association: when I say the word _blame_, who comes to mind in an instant? Mom. I couldn't help it—it was almost involuntary. I was a terrible person for it, I knew. But it was like instinct. You see something come flying at your head, instinct (or maybe just common sense) tells you to duck. The need to grasp something, to hold onto something and say, "this is why I did that" was all consuming. The need for me to throw myself into Lady Kayura's dangerous skilled hands was to justify Ryo's getting out of the line of fire safely. The ends justify the means? Did my blaming my mother for my rotten childhood justify my as of yet unfinished teenage years? I _was_ happy right now, there was no way to get around that. I couldn't _not_ be happy, not with these friends. We were like soulmates, bonded to each other. Time nor harsh situations nor growing older would separate us. We would always be together.

Maybe I was jealous. Jealous of the fact that I could have this with my friends, non-blood related people, but I couldn't have it with my mother. Is it right to be jealous of yourself? Or was it just totally detrimental to your health, messing around with your head? The mumbo jumbo seems to be starting to come back, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it. The mushy feelings were still just that, even after all my musing and turning my thoughts over. Mush. Gloppy, drippy, slimy mush, all inside my head. I think I'm turning into it. Could you see the headlines? "Child prodigy slowly but surely turns into a pile of mush. Sources say he was jealous of himself and blamed his mother for everything bad that happened in his life. Is there no hope? Find out in article number five, in our next issue of World Shaking Situations." Bleah. An appropriate word to associate with myself.

The stars still winked at me, as I lay there, my arms turning numb from the pressure of my head. It was so serene outside, what with the night sounds in my ears. One could fall asleep to the hooting noises of the nearby owl if their mind wasn't leaking out of their ears. My problem in a nutshell. Maybe. Now was I second-guessing myself? More mush, I knew.

"What are you doing out here all alone?"

My heart skipped brashly in my chest as the voice ran through my ears. It made it past the dripping slush, I guess, and Sage's voice registered in my mind as slightly concerned, half-amused, and wanting to keep me company. I turned my head and smiled a little at him as the wind blew.

"I'm staring at the stars," I replied, looking back up at the sky. It wasn't lying, was it? I _had_ been looking at them, I was just also consumed in my thoughts. "See it?" I pointed my index finger over my head. "The Big Dipper. It's turned on its side."

Sage's feet, as light as a cat's, walked through the grass closer to me, and he settled next to me, stretching out on his back. In the starlight I could make out the blue and red stripes on his white pajamas.

"Neat," he replied earnestly. "You enjoy this, don't you?"

"You enjoy meditating, right?" I asked him, dropping my hand. When he nodded, I continued. "This is my type of meditation. A cool night with a clear sky sprinkled with shiny stars. Ain't nothing better."

Sage's head turned to me abruptly. "Really? There's nothing you can think of that's better?"

I just stared at the sky and sighed contentedly. "Nope. Not right now."

Sage propped his head up, leaning on his elbow as he turned on his side. "You've been thinking about something," he observed.

Sometimes, he sees through me so well it scares me. I didn't try to evade his statement or cover anything up. I just nodded. "I've been thinking a lot," I admitted.

"Anything you'd like to share?"

"The operative word there being _like_," I mumbled.

Sage changed his question. "Anything you need to share?"

I stared for a moment, then responded, "I don't know, Sage…it's all just…_mush_ right now."

"Your thoughts."

"Yeah. I think I'm seriously confused…Hey, Sage?"

"Yeah?"

I turned my head and looked at him. "Did you think you had a bad childhood?"

Sage cocked his head and thought for a moment. "No, I don't think it was bad. Why? Do you think you had a bad one?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I wouldn't call what I had much of a childhood, I guess."

"Rowen, this visit with your mother really upset something within you, didn't it?"

I shrugged again, my thoughts reverting back to my explanation of _blame_. My mother…was she just a false pretender or was she giving me what I wanted, what I needed?

I turned my face back to the sky and took a deep breath. I can't judge her, not anymore. "I don't know, Sage," I began, but something in my voice faltered and it caught. "I…I can't seem to place my mother into my life…"

"What do you mean, Rowen?" Sage asked gently.

I gulped. "I don't know how I feel about her. I…guess you could say my childhood…aw, geez…I really don't know…"

"Rowen."

I looked back at him, looked back into his violet eyes.

"Rowen, your childhood is over…you're not a kid anymore."

"I know," I whispered.

"So why bother to dwell on it?"

I shook my head and bit my lip.

"You're older now, Rowen. Concentrate on the now of things. If you need a few days to sort it out, well, you've got it. Nobody's pushing you into anything. Just remember how you felt about your mother a few days ago."

I bit my lip harder, trying to keep the lump down in my throat. I nodded at him to say I understood and then sat up, hugging my knees to my chest. How did Sage always put things into such a perspective that it seemed easier than it was?

Sage sat up with me and scooted over on the cool grass, mimicking my sitting style. It was quiet for a few minutes, the wind rustling the trees while the owl still hooted.

"The thing is," I struggled out, forcing the tears back, "is that it was awkward at first with her, but then…" I swallowed hard. "Then…after a while, I got used to it…and I did enjoy being with her…and…and…" I blinked, sending a wave of tears down my cheeks. "I miss her." I didn't look at Sage as I said it.

He put his arm around me.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Sage…I just see her whenever she pops into my life…but I'm not one who can say to her, 'You've done this wrong and you were never a good parent'. I don't have that qualification. What do I know? I'm still a kid."

"But a wiser one, from this, no doubt," Sage countered. "Think about it, Rowen…seeing her at least once a year is better than not seeing her at all, right?"

I dug the heel of my hand into my eyes and nodded, thinking of Ryo. How did he cope? "Maybe it's easier not having to worry about something like this," I told Sage.

He shrugged. "I don't think so. I think without family we are all lost. But, hey, I'm just a kid, too…just like you. We all are. We don't know everything right off the bat. We have to figure things out for ourselves. That's the way it works."

I sniffled, determined to stop the runny nose that had come with the brief tears. Sage and I sat for a while longer, just looking at the sky in comfortable silence. I didn't think. Thinking was exhausting, at least _this_ kind of thinking, and I didn't want to anymore tonight. I wanted to enjoy the cold night air on my hot, tear-stained cheeks. And so I did.

I guess the proverbial mush would always be there, squashed into the back of my mind for me to access whenever I wished, if I ever did. Call me a mushy heap of mumbo jumbo. I couldn't sort anything out right now, and I guess it didn't matter, so for now, I'd stay that way.

"Sage…is she still my family?"

He took a moment to reply. "Of course, Rowen. She's always been your family." He paused. "Just remember, we're all here, too. It's okay for someone to have two families." He slapped my shoulder in friendship and smiled at me through the starlight.

In that one sentence Sage made more sense to me than he ever did. It's okay for someone to have two families, is what he said. I guess, then, what I had was okay, as long as I was happy. And how could I not be, with friends like these?

End.


End file.
